What counts, in the long run, is not what you read; it is what you sift through your own mind; it is the ideas and impressions that are aroused in you by your reading.
We read to know that we are not alone.
We read fine things, but never feel them to the full until we have gone the same steps as the author.
Until I feared I would lose it, I never loved to read. One does not love breathing.
To learn to read is to kindle a fire; every syllable spelled sparkles.[Apprendre à lire, c’est allumer du feu; toute syllabe épelée étincelle.]
To admit authorities, however heavily furred and gowned, into our libraries and let them tell us how to read, what to read, what value to place upon what we read, is to destroy the spirit of freedom which is the breath of those sanctuaries.
Think before you speak. Read before you think.
There are two motives for reading a book; one, that you enjoy it; the other, that you can boast about it.
The reading or non-reading a – book will never keep down a single petticoat.
The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you’ll go.
The last-page ache. The deep breath in after you’ve set the book aside.
The demand that I make of my reader is that he should devote his whole life to reading my works.
